Night in Nantes
by enamors
Summary: Bella finds her soul mate in the unlikeliest of places. Edward/Bella AU/AH one shot.


**This was written as a Christmas present for the RPattz to my TomStu, Jenn. Merry Christmas, bb! xoxo. She wanted a fic about Edward as a lonely musician and this is the end product.  
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**Thank you to my beta Trinity Brooks for looking this over for me. Also, I've started posting my fic and teasers at a livejournal community called palenoir under the username enamors. So feel free to join if you're at all inclined. Links are on my profile. Now please read on and enjoy the story. **

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Night in Nantes

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He paced the pavement in the dark in front of a fully illuminated house, walls pulsing with deep bass beats. Putting one foot directly in front of the other he walked along the painted yellow lines marking the middle of the street. The road was deserted and its calm serenity stood in stark contrast to the frenetic energy emanating from the house.

She sat not far away, on the wooden steps of the house, her bare knees pulled up to her chin. Her skinny pale arms were wrapped around her legs as she watched him pace and smoke his cigarette. The smoke came out of his mouth in a smooth pattern and dispersed above his head. He flicked the ash and shoved his free hand in his pocket.

"This shit is terrible," he said, still staring at the ground.

The girl on the stairs lifted her head and looked around. They were alone. She paused before quietly asking, "Sorry?"

He turned toward her and stopped pacing, still standing on the yellow lines. "This music. It's fucking awful. They play it at every party. It's tired."

She returned his gaze then and took in his rumpled appearance. He had thick, messy bronze hair that stuck up in odd directions. His eyes were a piercing green, emphasized by the unusual reddish brown color of his hair. A thin grey t-shirt and black jeans covered his tall, lean frame. Broad shoulders, skinny hips, chiseled features and a casual style made him undeniably masculine and gorgeous.

A smile graced her face before she spoke shyly. "I wouldn't hold your breath. I think Chris Brown might be a staple of frat boy seduction for years to come."

"Is that what that is?" He asked with a crooked grin. He chuckled and it sounded rusty, like he didn't laugh very often. "I've been doing it wrong all this time." He brought his cigarette back up to his lips and squinted before breathing in.

Fascinated by his easy manner and tired of the unnecessary distance between them, the girl stood and walked toward him. He was magnetic and she was compelled to move closer. She wore shorts, scuffed up black Chuck Taylors and a thread bare t-shirt with the faded logo of some summer camp for kids.

"So what are you doing out here all alone when everyone is having the time of their lives inside?" She asked once she stood about two feet away from him. He was taller than she realized and the top of her head barely came to his shoulder. He had a five o'clock shadow covering his square jaw and a small scar above his eyebrow.

"I could ask the same thing of you," he returned, looking at her with some sort of strange intensity. She was small and quiet and for some unfathomable reason he found her fascinating even though she barely said a word.

She shrugged and kicked at invisible pebbles on the pavement. "I get a little claustrophobic in there. I'm only here as moral support for my friends." She bit her lip and looked up at him. "Not really my scene, I guess." She felt vulnerable and wondered why she was telling a complete stranger her issues.

Surprisingly, he reciprocated. He simply nodded, giving her that deep look again. "Exactly. It feels so forced. My brothers keep trying to hook me up with this girl named Jessica. Bleach blonde hair, black roots, blood red lipstick, hot pink shirt. She's so bright. Hurts my eyes." A nearly invisible shudder ran through his body.

She smiled and tilted her head back, looking at the stars. "I feel a little removed from it all I guess. It's just not me." There was a tension in the air; an electricity. She felt the need to reach out and touch him, tug on his shirt, pull on his hair. For her it was the oddest feeling, completely foreign. So instead she fidgeted, scratching her leg with her opposite foot.

"Maybe we have to come to terms with the fact that we're boring. No one will want to hang out with us and we'll just have to hang out together." He looked down on the top of her brunette head and grinned. She was such a little thing, modest and shy. He saw in her something that set her apart from others and made her different in the same way he was different. Her closeness made him feel comfortable and less alone. If only he could grab her hand and bring her closer.

He was exhilarated and scared shitless at the same time, but he had the feeling she was worth the risk.

"Lay down with me," he said suddenly.

She flashed a disbelieving grin. "We're in the middle of the street," she said shaking her head. He didn't look away. "You're serious?" She asked.

"The whole 'strangers in the night' bit. Be daring." He looked around deliberately. "No cars. Come on." He held out a large hand and she automatically placed hers in his, anxious to feel his skin against her own. His fingers wrapped around her palm and tugged down as he folded his lanky frame and laid on his back against the cool pavement.

She laid down as well and turned her head to look at his profile as he stared at the moon above. He adjusted their hands so their fingers were entwined and electricity spiraled up her arm. Moving his other arm to prop up his head, he let out a relaxed sigh. "You know when the moon is directly overhead you weigh slightly less?"

Her gaze moved to the sky. "Really?" He was full of surprises.

"Mmm hmm," he murmured. "I read it in a book once so it must be true." He was always a nervous wreck, but laying next to this girl with the deep eyes and fragrant hair, the knot of tension that constantly resided in the pit of his stomach suddenly unraveled. Just her presence seemed to cure him.

They lay in silence for a while, holding onto each other in the dark. Drunk and stumbling people would occasionally walk in and out of the house, but the pair went unnoticed, blending into the night.

Soon her giggle broke the silence. He looked over at her and squeezed her hand. "What is it?"

She took in a deep breath and returned his gaze. "What are we doing?" She said laughing louder now.

Her laughter rang out strong and clear and it made him smile. "What do you mean? Why are we lying alone in the dark in the middle of the road?"

"Yes that, and why doesn't this feel weird? I don't even know your name." It was true, lying in the street at one in the morning with this stranger felt fine, in fact, it felt right; as if there was no place else she should be besides laying on this yellow median outside a frat party with an anti-social music snob.

"Edward," he said looking over at her. "But everyone calls me Cullen. Even girls."

"Edward Cullen," she repeated. "Well you'll always be Edward to me," she said firmly. "I like it, plus I strive to be different." She flashed him a smile and her eyes traveled the line of his jaw. She prayed she wasn't too obvious, but he was heaven to look at.

"And what do I get to call you?" He replied, feeling her eyes on him.

"My friends call me Bella."

He breathed in deeply. "Bella. I like it. It's fitting." He said it so nonchalantly, as if it was nothing but the truth and it made her blush. She felt the heat rise from her chest and spread across her face. He readjusted their hands and squeezed tighter.

"Your hands are hard," she said, feeling his rough calluses against her palm.

He began to pull away, self conscious of his crude palms pressed against her soft, delicate ones. "Shit, sorry. I play guitar a lot and it's taken a toll. Every once in a while I singe my fingers on a lighter too. My hands are hell."

"No," she contradicted. "It's fine. I like it. I was just making an observation." She brought his hand closer to her, resting their entwined fingers on her stomach so his knuckles pressed against her t-shirt. "You should quit smoking though. It's not only your fingers you should worry about."

Immediately she felt self-conscious and that she had no right to question or judge his bad habits. He didn't appear offended though and turned his head toward her. "Ask me to quit and I will," he said seriously.

"Yeah, I'm sure it's that easy." She shot him an exasperated look.

"I'm sure it's not, but ask me anyway. I've never had proper motivation before," he said beseechingly. His tone of voice and the look in his eyes made him impossible to resist.

So she took the challenge. "Fine then. Quit."

"Done," he said with a sigh and a smile. "Now you just have to make me keep my promise."

Her stomach clenched at the thought. If she did make him keep his promise that would mean they'd have to see each other again. And again. "So when two loners hang out does that mean they're no longer loners?" She asked.

"I guess so," he said, pretending to ponder it and smiling. "This is going to kill my image, you know."

"Oh yeah, the whole disgruntled James Dean persona will go right out the window with me hanging around," she said as she opened her hand and his and lightly began tracing patterns on his palm.

He laughed loudly. "Is that what you think of me?" He could have sworn he never laughed this much in his life. His parents were always nagging him to smile more. She had some weird affect on him though, he felt warm and just… happy.

"Definitely. You're totally the brooding tortured artist," she observed. "You wear Doc Martins, play the guitar, and complain about Chris Brown. It's obvious. I just bet you ride a motorcycle with no helmet."

He grinned at her and her breath caught in her throat. There was the look again.

"Well you'd be wrong. I drive a very staid Volvo. Besides, I'm not nearly as daring as you think. Campus security actually closed this street off to traffic. There are never any cars."

This made Bella laugh again and she couldn't keep the wide smile off her face. The whole situation was so surreal. And wonderful. She had never hit it off with someone so completely in so short a period of time.

He gently rubbed his knuckles against the fabric of her t-shirt, enjoying the warmth coming off her body. Her fingers curved and clenched in reaction. She wanted to grasp his hand, throw her leg over his hips, bury her head in his neck, and breathe him in.

The thought made her unconsciously shiver. He took it to mean she was cold though.

"Damn, sorry Bella. Are you cold? You know I have extra clothes in my room. I can bring a sweatshirt down for you if you like, or we could hang out up there for a little while where it's warmer. If you want to that is." He looked unsure and apologetic.

Bella jumped at the chance to extend their time together, even if it was just for a little while. "That would be fantastic actually. I had beer splashed on me earlier and I feel a bit sticky," she explained. His eyes flashed to her chest and his cheeks grew slightly flushed.

He cleared his throat. "Well, let's go then." He reached down, grabbed her hand and pulled her up quickly. She wasn't quite sure what to do with her hands so she left them by her sides. She didn't want to make him uncomfortable by reaching for his again even if it's what she wanted.

They walked side by side up the stairs to the door. "Ah, it might be a little tight in there, so you may want to hold onto me. We're going to go up two flights of stairs. I'm on the top floor," he said. He felt strangely protective of her.

Bella nodded and laid a hand on his back intending to stay close. He opened the door and immediately the music spilled through. They stepped inside, and she was pressed between hot, sweaty bodies that reeked of beer and loose inhibitions. Edward reached behind him and grabbed her hand. He successfully maneuvered them to the foot of the stairs before they were waylaid.

"Bella!" a voice called from behind them. Instinctually, she turned back and was greeted by the too bright smile of James. She cringed and tried to pretend she didn't see who called her, but he grabbed her hand. His grip was hot, sweaty and painful. It was so unlike Edward's strong, comforting, electric grip.

James pulled her toward him and pressed his hips against hers. She lifted her arms in front of her chest to keep some space between them. She turned her face away and his lips pressed against her ear. "I've been looking for you all night, gorgeous." He breathed heavily and she tried to lean away. His too-strong cologne was sickening.

"I have to go," she said, the irritation clear in her voice.

James was a hunter, the type of guy who loved the thrill of the chase and wanted whatever he couldn't have. His bedroom eyes, bleached hair and matching teeth did nothing for her, and ever since she turned down his smug advances he had pursued her relentlessly.

She searched for Edward with her eyes, desperate for the feel of his t-shirt under her fingertips. Once they locked eyes and he saw her pained expression, he stepped forward abruptly and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against his torso.

The look in her eyes made it apparent she wanted nothing to do with the prep school prick currently fondling her. The overwhelming wave of disappointment that she had someone else left his body as quickly as it came. Now he just had to get the fucker's hands off of her. That new protective side of his personality mixed with a possessive part and he saw red.

His hand reached out and pushed James backward. With a glare capable of murder, Edward growled. "Back the fuck off, man."

The look worked wonders and James immediately stepped away. "Whatever, asshole." There was a definite tremor apparent in his voice.

Edward grabbed Bella's hand and looked around the room until he caught sight of two guys wearing maroon t-shirts, which marked them as new pledges, standing by the door. Shouting over the music, he yelled, "Mike! Tyler! I want him out of here." He pointed at James and brought Bella to stand in front of him and away from James.

Then he leaned down suddenly and pressed his lips directly to Bella's neck, marking her as his own. He didn't know what came over him, he just had this foreign possessive urge to let James, and everyone else for that matter, know that she was taken.

Bella gasped as she felt the blazing heat of his mouth on her neck, the sound was lost in the crowd, but Edward felt her tense. He moved his mouth next to her ear. "Sorry, Bella. Shit, I don't know why I did that, but maybe it will keep him away."

Edward began to pull his arm from around her waist, but Bella clutched it to her and grasped his hands. "No, no, it's fine, Edward. Really. Let's go upstairs." She felt anxious and needy, and a simple kiss on her neck set her body ablaze. They were in the least romantic atmosphere possible and yet she never felt more cared for or turned on.

With his arm grasping her waist they continued forward and by the time they reached the top of the stairs her feet weren't even touching the floor. But he put her down right outside a door on the third floor. He reached inside his pocket, unlocked the door, and ushered her in.

Moonlight flooded the darkened room and made it bright enough to see. Bunk beds ran along the wall to the right, and a couch and TV took up space on the other side of the room. Two desks rested against the far wall. Elliot Smith's 'Figure 8' and an old David Bowie tour poster decorated the walls, but beyond that the room was sparsely decorated. Sheet music littered the floor and two guitars were stowed in the corner of the room.

Edward stepped into the room behind Bella and swung the door closed, but kept it slightly ajar to make sure she was comfortable. Bella was warmed by the gesture, but also wanted it fully closed and locked so they could have some privacy. She left it alone, however, not wanting to seem over eager.

"Here, I have plenty of t-shirts you can change into if you like." He tugged open a drawer in a bureau and pulled out a piece of worn blue fabric before handing it to her.

She unfolded it, revealing the logo of St. Michael's Academy Ice Hockey. The back displayed the name 'Cullen' in capital letters.

"Private school, huh?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah. They had the best music program." He stood awkwardly by the bureau, his hands stuffed in his pockets. She smiled at his embarrassment.

"I'm picturing plaid mini-skirts, lacrosse sticks, and imported beer. You're right, the James Dean persona is way off," she said teasingly.

The corner of his mouth hitched up in a devastating crooked smile. "Well, you aren't too far off. We did partake in our fair share of Natty Light though."

"Classic choice," she responded, returning his smile and clutching his shirt to her chest.

She saw his eyes fall to her lips before he ripped his gaze away. "Oh, I'll let you change." He turned his back and went to stand by the bed.

She slipped off her damp shirt and felt her bra. It was sticky and smelled so she pulled that off as well before putting on Edward's soft t-shirt. It smelled good, like detergent and coffee and man.

"So how about you? What was your school like?" He asked, holding onto the bed post and talking into the wall to give her privacy.

"Public school. Generic jeans, basketball, and strictly domestic beer."

"Sounds refreshing." His mind went off on a tangent of its own and he was imagining her shirtless as she changed. He pictured her braless too, of course.

She walked over to the bed and he sat down, his feet on the floor. She kicked off her Chucks and sat down as well, facing him, sitting cross-legged on the blankets. He had a hole in his shirt and Bella wanted to put her finger through it and touch his skin.

Clearing her throat, Bella asked softly, "So where is your roommate?" She hoped the question wasn't too suggestive.

"Hanging out with his girlfriend, Alice. He never sleeps here anymore, and most of his stuff is at her place." He turned his head toward her. "You'd like her, I think."

"Oh yeah, and why's that?" She asked, fiddling with the sheet to keep her fingers occupied so they wouldn't reach out and grab his hand which was laying only two inches away.

Edward took in her hooded eyes, pink cheeks, and thick wavy hair and shrugged. "She's really down to earth and fun, a smart and relatable girl like you." He thought Bella was more than that really. She was gorgeous and smart and funny and comfortable and made him feel a part of something when he always felt alone. He connected with her in a way he couldn't explain. He wanted her near him more, not just this one night.

"You should meet her." He hesitated. "Maybe you, me, my roommate Jasper and Alice could all meet up for lunch one day. If you'd like." Nervously, he began to untie his Doc Martins.

Bella looked up and smiled. "Yeah, I'd really like that. I'd like to meet more girl friends. All I really have here is Rosalie. My roommate Lauren and I don't get along very well so it'd be nice to meet some new people."

He felt relieved that he would definitely see her again and laid back on the bed, his feet still touching the floor.

Bella fidgeted some more and picked up the iPod that lay between them on the bed that was hidden by the folds of his duvet cover. "So what are you listening to?" She said as she held it up so he could see.

He took it and pressed the screen. "Last played was 'Nantes' by Beirut. It's really good. Want to listen?"

Bella nodded eagerly and lay down next to him so their shoulders were touching. Edward passed her an earbud and put the other in his ear. He pressed play and Zack Condon's soothing tones spilled forth.

They listened for a few minutes before Edward clutched the covers underneath them in a fist. "Bella, I'm sorry for what happened downstairs. I'm sorry I let him touch you. I just didn't know if the two of you were... together or anything."

She looked over and saw his slightly strained and apologetic expression. "No, Edward. I'm not interested in James."

Edward took a breath before replying. "Is there anyone you are interested in?"

"Just one person," she replied in a near whisper.

"Who?" He demanded quickly.

"Isn't it obvious?"

Edward sighed and his smile returned. Their fingers brushed and once again their hands entwined. "Is it weird that I've known you for an hour and a half and I feel like I know you better and feel more comfortable with you than every single one of my frat brothers downstairs?"

Bella abruptly turned her head toward him, their eyes locking. "No," she whispered. "I feel it too." Edward nodded and seemed satisfied with that. She, however, turned on her side and moved closer to him before slowly laying her cheek on his chest and her arm across his waist. She could feel his heart beat rhythmically beneath her ear.

Edward brought his arm around her shoulders and held her close. They lay there, together, listening to a few Beirut tracks, enjoying the closeness, the familiarity, and the pleasant electricity humming between them.

That electricity changed though when Edward began rubbing her back and Bella hitched her leg over his thighs. His breathing grew deeper and hers more shallow. His scent was wonderful and she breathed it in, her hands clutching his side. A telltale throbbing increased intensity between her legs. She rubbed her cheek against his chest.

Above her head, Bella heard and mumbled and deep, "Fuck it," before Edward tilted his head down, wrapped a large palm around the back of her thigh and slid her up his chest so their mouths could meet.

Bella met him halfway and stretched up toward him, finally able to grab his top lip between her own while he nipped and sucked on her bottom one. Desperate noises escaped both their mouths. Her body burned and rejoiced. She lifted her hands to the back of his head and pressed him closer, running her fingers through his thick hair. It felt like she had been waiting for this moment for an eternity.

Edward growled deep in his throat and tightened his hand on her thigh, pushing it further between her legs. Bella gasped in response and pressed more firmly against him. He slanted his head over hers more fully and their tongues touched. He was gentle yet forceful and tried to drink her in.

Their mouths opened wider and they each sought more of the other. Bella whimpered and crawled more fully over his chest, straddling his hips so they rested squarely between hers. "Fuck, Bella," he murmured. He reared up slightly pulling her face to his and moving his other hand beneath her shirt tracing the smooth skin running along her spine.

Just then strains of conversation floated down the hallway and heavy footsteps followed closely behind. A big voice boomed, "Cullen! Stop fucking hiding." The door began to open but the pair inside were otherwise occupied and they barely paid attention to the room getting brighter from the light coming in from the hallway.

"Cullen, we are so going to get you some puss—" The sentence was abruptly cut off. "Oh shit, sorry man."

Edward turned his head and growled toward the door. "Get. The. Fuck. Out." He stood up, with Bella still attached, her lips on his neck, and walked toward the door. He kicked it closed with his foot and threw the lock over with a decisive click. Bella wrapped her legs around his torso and pulled on his hair as he did so.

Taking her lips with his own again he walked them back to the bed and laid her down before crawling on top of her, fitting snugly between her legs and hips.

Bella smiled, grinning at the absurdity of the situation and began to giggle against his lips. Her laugh was infectious and Edward joined her. She collapsed back on the bed, going limp and he did the same, his body pressing hers into the bed covers.

He searched for her lips for one more kiss before rolling them over so her head laid on his chest again. He smoothed her hair away from her face and rubbed her back. She sighed contentedly, very much in awe of how she had just spent the last two hours of her life.

She loved his smile, and his humor, and the little trail of hair that was showing between the top of his jeans and the bottom of his mussed t-shirt, and his pessimistic view on life. She especially loved how comfortable it was to lay on top of him; like she was molded to fit there. She felt the gentle rise and fall of his chest and her eyes grew heavy.

Edward clasped his hands behind her back and lazily rubbed his fingers back and forth against the silver of skin on her back that was exposed to the air by his roving hands. She fit against him perfectly and she smelled so good. He loved the feeling of her weight pressing him into the bed. It just felt right. The sound of her breathing was like a lullaby.

Suddenly, a loud buzzing disrupted the quiet. Bella jumped up, startled, before she realized where she was and who she was with. Edward was rubbing a hand across his tired eyes while the other was holding on to her belt loop, making sure she didn't go anywhere. Bella clutched at Edward's t-shirt before she reached into her pocket. "Sorry, it could be Rosalie," she said as she flipped open the phone.

She read the text, then groaned and buried her face against Edward's neck, enjoying the smell and the warmth. Drowsily he spoke up, "Who is it?"

"Rosalie," Bells sighed. "She's looking for me. It's after four in the morning."

Edward immediately wrapped his arms around her waist. "Don't go. Text back and tell her you're fine and that she can come fetch you later." He wrapped one leg around both of hers to anchor her to him. "I'm already craving a cigarette. You have to stay to make sure I don't give in."

Bella lifted her head. "I can't. I really have to go."

Edward paused for a moment before nodding. "Okay, but I can call you, right? You said that you wanted to meet Alice and Jasper." He needed some sort of reassurance that what they had would still be there in the morning.

She smiled and laid a kiss under his chin. "Yes, I'd like to do that, among other things." Then she stood up off the bed and turned toward him. "Give me your phone."

He felt around the top of the small table next to his bed and handed her a Blackberry, in return she gave him her flip phone. "Put in your number." She leaned against his chest while she put in her number, using any excuse she could to touch him. Quickly she entered it before shoving her feet back into her old Chucks.

When she was done she turned back to him and he was giving her that intense look again. Unable to help herself, she flew back over to the bed and threw herself on top of him, clutching at his shoulders. He groaned but wrapped his arms around her anyway.

"I don't want to go," she said, squeezing her eyes closed as if to try and block out the world.

"Problem easily solved. Don't go. Stay here. I can crash on the couch and you can sleep in the bed. I'll drive you home in the morning." It surprised him just how much he wanted her to stay and how uncomfortable it was to see her leave.

"Rosalie said it was urgent, I can't ignore that. But I will talk to you later, right?" She asked as she got up off the bed again. Edward nodded. "Okay," she responded. "Promise me you'll call."

Edward sat up and took her hand in his. "Of course. I'll call first thing in the morning and you can tell me all about this strange yet amazing guy you met last night who you made you lie down in the middle of the street."

Bella laughed and leaned in for one final kiss before moving toward the door. "Thanks for the shirt. Well, thanks for everything, Edward, really. I was dreading tonight, but as it turns out I wouldn't have missed it for anything. And I mean that literally."

Edward nodded. "Same here. Goodnight, Bella."

"Goodnight, Edward," she said softly as she quietly shut the door behind her.

He lay on his bed for a little while just trying to soak in everything that happened that night. He was adrift. Nothing had ever happened to him like that. To be honest he just wasn't that good with people and never felt like he connected to anyone and yet the first moment he saw this slip of a girl, it was like the puzzle pieces of his life and personality suddenly fit together.

He looked at his phone. 4:18 am. He could probably call her in six hours. It was a good thing too because he missed her already; her smile, her laugh, her smell, the warmth between her legs as it pressed against him.

Throwing his feet off the bed he stood up and stretched before walking over to his dresser. He got ready for bed, taking of his pants, shoes and socks, and brushing his teeth.

As he walked to the door to lock it for the final time that night, there was a quiet knock.

Praying that on the other side would be a sleepy brunette swimming in a blue shirt ten times too big for her, he opened the door.

And sure enough, Bella's smile greeted him on the other side. She immediately stood up on her tip toes and wrapped her arms around his neck and proceeded to crawl up his body and wrap her long, bare legs around his torso. He supported her thighs and lifted her up returning her kiss with all the passion he felt. His other half had come back to him; at least that's what it felt like.

He shut the door, locked it, and carried her over to the bed. "What side of the bed do you sleep on, Edward?" Bella asked as soon as she disengaged her lips.

"Ah, the left, I guess," Edward said, a little confused.

"Perfect." Bella hopped down and immediately removed her shoes and socks before slipping off her shorts, throwing the covers of his bed back, and climbing in. "It's almost five in the morning. I'm exhausted. Let's sleep." She scooted to the right side and held out her hand to him.

He grinned crookedly, inwardly asking himself what he had ever done to deserve this perfect moment. He shook his head and decided not to question it, and just enjoy it. He slid in next to her and pulled her closer to feel her comforting heat.

"Back, side or stomach sleeper?" She asked.

"Back, mostly."

Bella kissed him sweetly on the lips before smiling and murmuring, "Perfect" again. As he lay on his back, Bella moved to her side and rested her head on his chest, one arm again wrapping around his waist. He kicked a leg between hers and slid the tips of his fingers beneath the elastic of her underwear just so he could be as close to her as possible.

They both let out a big sigh of relief, the tension of their separation now completely gone. "So how is Rosalie? Fine, I hope," Edward asked as their breathing slowed and they their bodies grew limp.

"She's great." Bella explained. "She told me that she was spending the night here because she found her soul mate in the heart of a goofy football player," she replied.

Edward chuckled as he smoothed a hand down Bella's hair and back. "Well, imagine that."

Bella continued quickly, just wanting to get her thoughts out in the open. "And I told her that it was such a coincidence because I found mine in the heart of a lonely musician." She pressed her lips against the hollow of his throat, hiding her face.

Edward tensed for a moment before he turned toward her, holding her face between his hands and pressing a powerful kiss against her lips. "Bella." That intense look she loved returned. "I can't believe I finally found you. You have no idea how long I've waited for you."

The end.

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**Thank you for reading! I really hope you enjoyed it. **

**And to all those waiting for a High Heels and Runaway Frisbees update, I thought I'd let you know that the story is still alive and well and I won't abandon it. I suffered through a bout of writer's block but I think I've worked through it with these two one shots, so an update should be coming your way soon!**

**Thanks again for all your encouraging PMs and reviews. Oh, and please review this one if you have time. It'd be a nice way to jump back into writing HH&RF again. **


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